


You do not have to walk on your knees

by awomannotagirl



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: F/F, Femslash February, Light Bondage, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Strap-Ons, Threesome - F/F/F, some plot might have snuck in by accident
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-22
Updated: 2016-02-22
Packaged: 2018-05-22 13:09:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,202
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6080589
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/awomannotagirl/pseuds/awomannotagirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“What if ...” Rey took a deep breath. “What if I <em>showed</em> you what I want? If I found someone who wants to do what I want, and we showed you.”</p><p>Rey has needs. Phasma has issues. Jessika is an answer.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You do not have to walk on your knees

There are things Phasma can’t do. She would like to say won’t, but in truth, the word is can’t. She wanted to; she tried; she couldn’t make herself.

That is how she has ended up here, on the large mattress that takes up the majority of Rey’s small quarters, Rey kneeling between her legs with her head on Phasma’s chest, eyes closed, making those keening whines Phasma loves while she’s being fucked by someone else.

Jessika digs her fingers into Rey’s hips and pulls her toward herself with each thrust. Phasma can hear her hips slap into Rey’s ass and the wet sound of Rey’s cunt taking Jessika’s harnessed cock, over and over. And of course she hears Rey’s voice, that high pleading “Oh ...” every time the cock hits that perfect place deep within her. 

Phasma can also see Rey’s arms, bound behind her back with the long, thin strap of leather that Jessika had so expertly tied. She watches Rey’s hands, clenching and unclenching with the sensations inside—“Oh ... oh ... oh ...”—her fingers writhing, grasping at the air. 

Jessika takes a hand from a hip and with her next thrust slaps Rey’s ass, the sound loud in the tiny room. Rey gasps and her face contorts in what has to be pain but also looks like ecstasy. Jessika grabs Rey’s hip again, pounds into her a few more times, then takes her other hand back: thrust, slap. Rey groans and digs her head into Phasma’s chest; Phasma threads her fingers into Rey’s hair and grips her tightly. The animal moan and slight smile Rey gives tells Phasma that it was the right thing, though the gesture was born from an instinct of possessiveness, not pleasure.

* * *

This was how they got there:

Phasma sat in Rey’s desk chair, holding the rope that she had been unable to use to tie Rey to the bed. 

Rey was sitting on the edge of the mattress. “I just want to not be in charge sometimes,” she said. “I want to be able to give it up, completely. I want you to _take_ me.”

“And you have to be tied up for that?” Phasma scowled. She thought she did plenty of taking Rey as it was.

“Well, yes,” Rey said. “Not all the time. But sometimes, yes, that’s what I want.”

Phasma let go of the rope, ran her hands through her hair and dropped her head into them. “I can’t hurt you,” she said, to the floor.

“It’s not about that,” Rey said. “Sometimes, sure, things hurt, but that’s not the point, not for me. I just ...” She blew out a frustrated breath as she searched for words. “I want you to be in control.”

“How am I not in control when I’m fucking you?” 

“I want you _completely_ in control. Totally. I want to give myself to you and not have to think or choose or give directions or anything.” 

Phasma was silent a long moment. She still didn’t look at Rey, but finally she said in a low, desperate voice, “Rey, I’ve spent half my life detaining people, restraining people, keeping them quiet and under control, and it is _not sexy_.”

Rey answered her silence for what felt like minutes. At last she said, “I get that, Phas. I understand. But—” She paused, and seemed to have to force herself to go on. “But I need this. If I can’t get it from you, I’m going to have to get it from someone else.”

Phasma looked up then. Rey’s expression was unhappy, but stubborn. “All right,” she said, quietly. “Whatever you need, Rey.”

They fell asleep that night in silence, holding each other. Though they were pressed together, Phasma felt as if Rey were very far away, as if she were tumbling out into space and there was nothing Phasma could do to bring her back.

The morning was still quiet; they dressed with little conversation. As Phasma was about to open the door to go to breakfast, Rey touched her hand: “Wait, Phas.” Phasma turned back, and Rey said, “We have a lot more talking to do, however this plays out—”

“More talking?” Phasma said. “What is there to say? You need something I can’t give you. You need to find someone else.” And, bitterly: “I’ll live, Rey, I lived without you for the first thirty years of my life.” 

“Without me?” Rey looked shocked. “What are you saying? I wasn’t ending things last night, Phas, I just want more.”

Phasma was now truly confused. “You said you needed someone else. That seemed pretty clear.” 

“I didn’t say I didn’t need you.” Rey jumped up and grabbed Phasma, clinging to her and saying into her shirt, “If it means not having you I’ll live without it, damn, Phasma, I’ll live without air and water if I have to but I have to have you.”

Phasma wrapped her arms around Rey and kissed her hair, relief making her weak. “You have me, Rey. You have me.”

They didn’t go to breakfast. They lay on the bed and kissed and talked, and talked, and talked. 

As it got closer to lunch than breakfast, Rey fell silent for a long moment, her eyes unfocused and far away. When Phasma stroked her thigh inquiringly, Rey said, “I’m thinking. Give me a minute.”

Finally she turned her head and looked at Phasma. “I’m going to ask you something, and I want you to hear me out, all right? Don’t just instantly say no.”

Phasma laughed. “All right. I will not instantly say no.”

“What if ...” Rey took a deep breath. “What if I _showed_ you what I want? You might find that it’s not so terrible. That it’s even maybe sexy.” She looked steadily at Phasma. “If I found someone who wants to do what I want, and we showed you.”

“If I was there.”

“If you were there.”

It was Phasma’s turn to be silent for a long moment. “Maybe,” she said finally. “Maybe.” She paused, and then said, “It has to be a woman, though.”

Rey rolled her eyes. “Yes, it does.”

There was a woman Rey had in mind. In the few days before the attack on Starkiller, before Rey had tracked Phasma down and brought her back, she had had a fairly intense flirtation with one of the pilots—intense enough that she was sure that Jessika was interested in what Rey was interested in. They were still friendly, even after it became clear that Rey’s rescued stormtrooper was also Rey’s lover. 

Two days later they were back in Rey’s room with Jessika sitting on the edge of the bed, smiling at them. They had all agreed on parameters—she wouldn’t touch Phasma, Phasma wouldn’t touch her, Phasma might touch or hold Rey but it would be Jessika’s show. 

“If you get uncomfortable with this,” Jessika said to Phasma, “you just say so. You say stop, I’ll stop. She and I,” indicating Rey, “have a safeword, but you and I should keep it simple.”

Phasma nodded. 

“All right then,” Jessika said. She stood up and looked at Rey, sitting in the desk chair. Something shifted in Jessika’s face, and she said, “Rey.” There was a firmness in her voice that hadn’t been there a moment before. “Stand up.” 

Rey stood. Jessika walked slowly around her, touching her gently on the shoulders, the hips. She stopped behind her and ran her hands up Rey’s sides, over her ribs, up onto her breasts. Rey’s lips parted slightly, but she said nothing. She had been instructed to say nothing. Jessika took Rey’s nipples between her fingers through the cloth of her shirt, and squeezed. Rey drew in a sharp breath, but she said nothing. 

Phasma was standing by the door and her heart was hammering. She had expected to feel—she wasn’t sure what she’d expected, but it wasn’t this. This was excitement. She was watching someone else pinch Rey’s nipples roughly in her fingers, and it was turning her on.

“Good,” Jessika said, nodding. She walked back around to look into Rey’s face. “Take your clothes off.”

Rey undressed, not trying to be provocative, merely stripping down. When she was naked, she stood there, letting both of them look at her. 

Jessika moved over to the desk and picked up the harness and the silicone cock. It was Rey’s favorite, the one that curved into her at a perfect angle; sometimes she could come from this alone, with enough time and the right position. Jessika unbuttoned her pants and let them fall around her thighs, and then said, “Put this on me.”

Rey buckled on the harness, positioned the cock, and tightened the straps. “Perfect,” Jessika said, and pulled her pants back up, leaving the cock protruding but otherwise fully dressed. Her eyes flicked to Phasma. “Phasma, will you lie on the bed, please?”

Startled to hear her name, Phasma moved over and lay down on the bed, half propped up on the pillows. “Rey,” Jessika said, in the same firm, conversational tone, “go to Phasma. Kiss her. Let her touch you.”

Rey joined Phasma, leaning over her on her hands and knees, and kissed her—lightly at first, but more deeply as Phasma pulled her in, opening to Phasma’s tongue, letting her nip at her lips. 

“Touch her,” Jessika said. Phasma brought her hands up between them and ghosted the backs of her fingers over Rey’s nipples. Then she caught them between her fingers, already standing hard, and pulled, making Rey whimper. Still kissing her, she dragged her nails down Rey’s torso, up and over her hips, and took her ass in both hands. She pulled slightly, and she heard a slight wet sound as Rey’s labia opened, exposing her cunt. Phasma rolled the flesh in her hands, enjoying the way she was stimulating Rey’s cunt without touching it; Rey’s breath became more rapid. 

Jessika came and sat behind Rey on the bed, her eyes trained on the cleft that Phasma was spreading open and pushing closed in turns. “Mmm,” she said at last. “So wet. So beautiful. Do you want that beautiful pussy fucked, Rey?”

Rey nodded, her cheek against Phasma’s.

“Phasma, what do you think? Does she want to be fucked?” The same calm, even tone.

“She does,” Phasma said, her voice not nearly so measured. 

“Touch her to be sure,” Jessika said.

Phasma dropped her hand to the front, spreading Rey’s lips open further, and drew two fingers from her perineum to the top of her clit. She groaned involuntarily with the feel of it, and Rey panted: Rey was swollen and hot and soaking, dripping wet. She returned her fingers to the entrance of Rey’s vagina, pushing gently between her inner lips, and—

“No, no,” Jessika said, admonishing her. “I’m doing the fucking here today. You bring that hand back around.” And Phasma did, putting her hand back on Rey’s ass, returning to her slow roll. Rey whimpered and dropped her head to Phasma’s chest. 

“Before anybody gets fucked,” Jessika said, “we have something to attend to.” She picked up a long, thin leather strap and snapped it between her hands. “Rey. Up on your knees.”

Rey pushed up and knelt, body straight, arms at her sides. 

“Give me your hands behind you,” Jessika instructed, and Rey obeyed, following Jessika’s commands minutely. “Palms together. Wrists together. There you go.” She wound the strap around Rey’s wrists, and then continued winding up her arms. “Elbows back.” Phasma couldn’t see exactly what Jessika was doing, but it was clear enough from the way her hands moved. What Phasma could see was Rey; how her eyes fluttered half closed, how her lips parted, how her face stilled. She could see Rey’s body, trembling and responsive. As Jessika brought her elbows closer together by binding her forearms, Rey’s back arched and her chest came forward, her small nipples fisted. Phasma reached up and rolled one nipple in her finger and thumb, then pinched gently, and Rey’s mouth worked soundlessly.

Jessika brought the end of the strap back down through the loops wound around Rey’s arms and tied it. She took Rey by the elbows and pulled her back against her so that Rey was leaning against her chest; she whispered something Phasma couldn’t hear into Rey’s ear. Rey’s body was now just out of Phasma’s reach, so she dropped her arms and watched as Jessika brought her hands up Rey’s arms to her shoulders, down her ribcage, across the plane of her belly. She pressed into the column of abdominal muscle just above Rey’s pubic bone and Rey gasped. Phasma mirrored the gesture on her own body and yes, there was an echo there of the pleasure inside. Jessika moved one hand down to cup Rey’s vulva, her head sliding behind Rey’s shoulder, and Rey’s gasp became vocal. “Mmm, quiet there,” Jessika warned. 

Then she slipped her middle finger between Rey’s labia and made a slow circle over her clit. Rey closed her eyes and bit her lip, keeping herself from making noise. Phasma could just see Jessika smile, aware of Rey’s struggle. She added a second finger, exposing the slick pink swollenness hidden in the cleft, and Rey dropped her head back, opening her mouth and breathing harshly and raggedly.

“Move your knees apart,” Jessika said, and Rey shuffled herself so that her legs were open. “More,” Jessika said, shoving her a bit with her own knee, and Rey opened herself further, pushing Phasma’s legs apart as well. “Good,” Jessika said softly into Rey’s ear. “Now bend forward. Right onto Phasma, yes, like that,” as Rey lowered herself to Phasma’s chest. “And now I think you get a reward.” She pushed her pants back down her thighs and grasped the cock; she glanced at the desk, where the jar of lube stood open, and muttered, “Don’t think we need that.” She dragged her fingers down Rey’s bound arms, then spread her hand underneath, flat over Rey’s belly. Phasma couldn’t exactly see what she was doing behind Rey with the other hand, but from Rey’s sharply indrawn breath, she could guess that the head of the cock was at her entrance. 

“Phasma,” Jessika said. Phasma looked up and Jessika locked eyes with her; smiling, holding Phasma’s gaze, she pushed into Rey and started to fuck.

* * *

Phasma takes her other hand, the one not wound into Rey’s hair, and for the first time that afternoon touches the strap that binds her. She traces slowly down Rey’s arm, feeling the alternating sensations of the smoothness of the leather and the warmth of Rey’s flesh, until she is close to where Rey’s wrists press together. She works her fingers into the strap, holding it tightly, and pulls Rey’s arms up toward her very slightly, just enough so that Rey can feel that Phasma has her.

Now, with Rey held firmly in her arms, she can feel Rey’s body pushed forward as Jessika fucks her, and she holds her steady to meet the thrust. Rey’s voice changes, a deeper note of surprise entering, and she gets louder.

Phasma glances up at Jessika to find her grinning. Their eyes meet briefly, and Jessika leans forward, taps the hand Phasma has wrapped around the back of Rey’s head. “Help her out,” Jessika says. “I think she’s close.”

Phasma knows she’s close. She draws her hand out of Rey’s hair and strokes it down between their bodies, touching a nipple, smoothing over Rey’s belly, and takes her clit between two fingers. She circles her fingers with the slick nub tight between them, the way Rey likes it, picking up her pace to match Jessika’s and feeling the cock pumping in and out of Rey right at her fingertips. 

Rey’s whole body starts to clench; Phasma feels Rey’s abs locking tight against her forearm. The noises she’s making become one noise, a long screaming moan that’s searching for a release. “Push,” Phasma orders Jessika. “Inside her, just push deep.” Jessika obliges, leaning her weight into Rey, squeezing Phasma’s fingers, and Rey shouts, arches her back, raises her head, and convulses.

It’s never been quite like this before, but there’s no mistaking Rey’s climax, and all three of them are still for a long moment until Rey relaxes and goes limp onto Phasma. Phasma pushes at Jessika with the hand she has between Rey’s thighs; “Pull out,” she says, and Jessika does, falling to the side.

Rey groans as the cock leaves her empty. “It’s all right, baby,” Phasma murmurs to her. She knows full well that Rey isn’t done, that she almost always wants to be fucked a little more as she comes down, but she wants to do it. She rolls Rey to her side, onto the arm that Phasma has around her back, and she slides three fingers into her. She’s rewarded with an inarticulate sound of pleasure and moves slowly, deeply inside Rey, feeling her cunt clench around her fingers until finally she hears Rey’s sigh of completion.

She pulls out and puts her arm back around Rey, holding her, until after a moment she feels Jessika’s hand on her shoulder. “Let’s get her loose,” Jessika says. She leans over and undoes the strap, unwinding it and pulling it off. “Massage her shoulders,” she tells Phasma. “Move her arms, rub them. Get the blood moving.”

Phasma does as instructed, rolling onto her back again with Rey now lying on top of her and rotating Rey’s shoulders with her hands. Rey makes a pleased noise in the back of her throat, and Phasma strokes down her arms, feeling the marks from the strap.

Jessika has removed the harness and is buttoning up her pants. “Mind if I leave you with cleanup?” she says to Phasma, who shakes her head. Jessika leans over and kisses Rey quickly on the back of the neck and, unexpectedly, strokes Phasma’s hair. Phasma can’t help looking up at her in surprise and Jessika grins. “I should leave you two to be alone,” she says, getting to her feet.

“I think she’s asleep,” Phasma whispers.

“Even more reason, then,” Jessika says cheerfully. She adjusts her clothes, glances in the mirror to check her hair, and opens the door just enough to slip out. As she leaves, Phasma thinks she sees her look back and wink.

She feels around, careful not to dislodge Rey—who is definitely asleep—and finds the sheet to pull over them. She tries for a moment to sort out how she feels, but quickly gives up on thinking about it and just feels it. She’s singing. Her chest is full and singing, and the places where Rey is heavy on her are singing, and the future is singing. It had been beautiful, to see Rey so aroused and so satisfied. The binding that she had been afraid to use is made of attention and affection. She knows that Rey and Jessika have shown her the mildest face of what they enjoy, but now she knows what it is; now she can separate it from the other things she’s had to do.

“Next time,” she murmurs to her sleeping lover, “I’m in charge.”

**Author's Note:**

> I sat down to write the second chapter of [Remaining Human](http://archiveofourown.org/works/6023320/chapters/13818181), and this is what happened.
> 
> If it isn’t clear from the piece, I know almost nothing about the extended Star Wars universe; I saw the movies that were worth seeing and that’s it. Everything else I made up. 
> 
> The title is from a lesbian standard, Mary Oliver’s “Wild Geese”:
>
>>   
> You do not have to be good.  
> You do not have to walk on your knees  
> for a hundred miles through the desert repenting.  
> You only have to let the soft animal of your body  
> love what it loves.  
> 


End file.
